


If I Was Dying On My Knees (You Would Be The One to Rescue Me)

by TheFoolsKnight



Category: The Eldest Curses Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Book 3: City of Glass, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25257286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFoolsKnight/pseuds/TheFoolsKnight
Summary: It’s the night of Max’s funeral, and Alec has to learn to cope with his loss. But with Isabelle shutting herself away and Jace running away in the middle of the night, he has no idea who to turn to.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Max Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 4
Kudos: 123





	If I Was Dying On My Knees (You Would Be The One to Rescue Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Listen buddy, if I’m suffering with a case of Alec/Max feels while listening to Brother by Kodaline (That’s where the title is from, by the way), I’m bringing y’all down with me.   
> We all know how Isabelle and Jace spent that night of Max’s funeral, but there was nothing about Alec, so I decided to write my own supposition of what must’ve happened that night.  
> Now, buckle up, get your tissues ready and prepare to cry :)

Wisps of smoke covered the night sky of Alicante, blotting out the light of stars and looking sinister in the moonlight. To a lay observer, perhaps a mundane, or one of the downworlders dwelling in Brocelind, they might have looked like clouds, but Alec knew better.

He let the curtain fall and turned around, still dressed in the white suit he’d had to wear for the funeral. It was covered in stark red runes of mourning, and they reminded him too much of blood.

With a shuddering breath, Alec tore his gaze away from them. The house was eerily silent, with his parents attending the clave meeting, and Jace and Isabelle up in their rooms. Alec had tried to sleep, but it stayed out of reach, and after a while he gave up completely.

Now he wondered if Jace or Isabelle were able to sleep. Isabelle was probably still awake, since Simon was still in her bedroom. Alec went up the stairs to check on Jace, who had retreated into his bedroom a couple of hours ago and had been silent ever since.

“Jace?” Alec called out in a low voice, knocking on his door whilst willing for his voice not to crack. “Jace, are you there?”

When there was no answer, he slowly sketched an open rune into the door and pushed it open a crack, peeking inside. The bed was neatly made, not a wrinkle to mar it, and Jace was nowhere to be seen.

Alec felt a pang somewhere within. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he must’ve gone to see Clary. He was gone.

Alec sighed and closed the door, crossing out the open rune. Across from him, the light in Isabelle’s room was still turned on, and Alec could hear faint voices from within. Isabelle hadn’t stepped out the whole day, not even to attend the funeral. Alec stared at the door for a few moments, then sank to the ground, leaning heavily against Jace’s door.

Resting his head against the door, he looked up at the ceiling. The hallway was quiet and empty and dark, and Alec could only dwell on his brother’s fate. He had never felt loss like this, not so intense that it was crushing him. In that moment, he doubted that he would ever be able to smile again.

There was another bedroom at the end of this hallway, not the one his parents shared, where they kept Max’s belongings. Alec stood up, and with shaking legs, made his way over to that bedroom.

The bed was neatly made, with a pristine bed sheet pulled taut over it. Jace had gone around cleaning the whole house after they’d returned from the funeral, and Alec hadn’t stopped him, choosing to lay down on the couch instead. He felt like a part of him was dead, but he couldn’t stop to dwell on it. 

But again, the pain of Max’s death felt as if some entity was stabbing his heart, over and over again. He couldn’t breathe, and his head was hurting from all the thoughts running through it all day.

Alec looked at the boxes, wondering if he should go there, open them and go through their contents, but seeing them would only remind him of Max, young and inexperienced, who loved to read mundane comic books and could sleep anywhere like a cat. The mere thought of it was like a punch to the gut, so he left, stumbling to his own bedroom and hoping to find solace in sleep.

Except when he turned the witchlight lamp on, a small metallic object caught the light and glinted. Alec stared at it.

It was a key, small and coloured in the characteristic dark grey of iron, attached to a keychain shaped like a cat’s head. It was a spare key to Magnus’s house, and he had given it to Alec what now seemed like a long time ago. Alec picked it up now, cradling it in his palm, and thought of Magnus.

Jace was surely with Clary, and Isabelle with Simon. Surely Alec wasn’t selfish in wanting to be with Magnus in that moment?

But a voice inside him whispered that he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve to be happy, that he had to suffer from grief until he died mad of it.

It was his fault, anyway. He had failed as Max’s older brother. He wished he could turn back time, wished he could’ve stayed behind instead of leaving Max and Isabelle with Sebastian. But there was nothing he could do, and that thought only added fuel to the fire burning him up from the inside.

Driven by some impulse, Alec picked up the key and pocketed it, walking out the door and subsequently out of the house, the cool air hitting him the moment he stepped out of the house. But Alec still couldn’t breathe. He walked, trying not to let his thoughts stray to Max, until, without even realising it, he was in front of the charred remains of the Gard. There was no one else there - all the adults were in the accords hall, in the clave meeting. Alec had thought of going there, but he figured he wouldn’t be of much use anyway, and he didn’t want to see anyone’s pitying gazes directed towards him.

Alec stood where the entrance of the Gard once stood, and stepped through the rubble, looking around for a sign of magic. The Gard had been destroyed in the fire, but Alec couldn’t help but wonder whether the permanent portal had survived or not.

He had no idea what he was doing in the middle of the night, in the charred remains of the Gard. Yet a part of him dared to hope that he could find the portal and go to New York, that he could be with Magnus. A part of felt guilty for even thinking about it, for wanting to forget about Max even for a little while. 

Yet, he trudged through the ashes, pushing rubble aside to see if the portal was under any of it, but he found neither hair nor hide of the shimmery surface of the portal.

When the search was proving to be futile, and Alec’s hands were aching, he abandoned it, stepping away from the rubble and heading away from it without bothering to use an iratze. 

He had been here that night, had been fighting unaware of what he had already lost. Alec curled his hand into a fist and jammed it into his pocket.

He still couldn’t bring himself to accept that idea. He was never going to see Max again. Never be able to play with Max again. Never train with him, teach him all that he knew, protect him the way he did with Isabelle and Jace.

Alec’s throat was beginning to hurt. Every thought was like a hammer to the head, ringing throughout his mind and leaving him breathless. He wished he could’ve been there to cover Max with his own body and take every single blow.

But he couldn’t. He could dream and dream and dream, but his baby brother was never coming back.

Alec almost stumbled right there, in the middle of the road. His breath had been entirely knocked out of him, and the world around him blurred. He blinked back tears, and walked on.

While he normally welcomed solitude, today he wished to not be alone, to be with someone who could ease his pain, and he couldn’t think of anyone he wanted to be with more than Magnus.

But Magnus was in New York, and Alec had no way of contacting him. He could send a fire message, perhaps, but he had no idea what to write.

Then he remembered - in Ragnor Fell’s house, a little away from Alicante, was the only working telephone in Idris. He remembered Magnus telling him about it, only a few days ago, although it seemed like an eternity had passed between then and now.

His heart beating fast, he pulled out his stele and drew a few runes on his forearms. Maybe if he ran fast enough…

He didn’t know where Ragnor’s house was located exactly, but he remembered Clary talking about it, and hoped that would be enough.

With a new surge of hope, he dashed off.

Ragnor Fell’s house was a tiny cottage hidden amidst the forest, and Alec had almost missed it. One open rune opened the door and Alec 

stepped inside, looking for the phone. Most of the belongings in the house were gone, judging by the empty tables, and the bookshelves were all bare, but the black, old-fashioned phone was still perched atop what looked like a study table.

He fell upon it, his fingers automatically moving to dial in Magnus’s number as he sat in the wooden chair in front of the table. Alec’s heart beat hard and fast as he listened to the phone ringing.

“WHO DARES DISTURB THE HIGH WARLOCK?!” came Magnus’s voice as soon as he answered the call, but Alec hardly flinched. He wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come through his tight throat.

“Seriously, who are you, and why are you calling me from a dead warlock’s phone? And Biscuit, if it’s you, patience is a virtue is all I’m saying.”

Alec’s breath hitched. He opened his mouth to say  _ something,  _ anything, but nothing came. What was he even supposed to say?

There were a few moments of silence, and Magnus said, his voice curious and wondering, and more than a little soft, “Alexander?”

Alec started, and managed to force out a single word through his throat. “ _ Magnus.” _

“Alexander, what’s wrong?” Magnus asked, his tone crisp and urgent. “Was there another attack?”

“No,” Alec choked out. “I-“

He took in a deep shuddering breath.

“Alexander,” Magnus said, his voice considerably softer. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Max,” Alec choked out, and covered his mouth when a broken sob escaped him.

Magnus was silent a moment, and then asked, “You’re in Ragnor’s house, right? You’re outside Alicante?”

“Yes,” Alec said, his voice muffled by his hand which wasn’t holding the earpiece.

“Good. I can make a portal to outside Alicante. Stay right there,” Magnus said. “I’ll be there in a while, okay?”

Alec nodded, but Magnus couldn’t see it. Nevertheless, he cut the call, and the dial tone echoed in Alec’s ears.

He set the earpiece down, beside the phone and laid his head on the table, his eyes wide open. He hadn’t turned on any lights and the house was shrouded in darkness. Alec stared into the dark and closed his eyes, images running behind his eyelids.

He remembered holding Max when he was first born, remembered how small he looked, curled up in the crook of Alec’s arms. He remembered watching Max grow up, day after day, remembered all the hopes he had harboured for himself and Max when he would grow up. But now Max would never grow up.

He saw Max as he was, nine and young, his eyes wide behind his glasses. He saw Max, clutched in his father’s arms in the accords hall, looking as if he were simply asleep. Except this was a sleep he would never wake up from, never have another morning to wake up to, never be able to do anything with anyone ever again.

Alec could feel tears sliding down his face, some pooling up at the bridge of his nose, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because he woke up to the house full of light, and voices from nearby.

“ _ No,  _ you can’t go to see Clary right now.” Alec recognised the voice, tired and exasperated, as Magnus’s. “I’m pretty sure she’s asleep right now, and if any shadowhunter sees you lurking around in the middle of the night, they’re going to flip out.”

“Why didn’t we just come in the morning, then?” someone asked, and judging by the voice, it was a woman.

“Something important came up. I had to come here immediately, and I decided it would be best to bring you along, too,” Magnus said.

“Okay, fine _ ,”  _ came the woman’s exasperated voice, preceded by a sigh. “We’ll just go to Alicante in the morning, then.”

Alec peeled his eyes open just as a door slammed shut. He saw Magnus, who looked as if he had rolled out of bed and thrown on the first set clothes he could find. His hair was sticking out, not in a stylish way but in the manner of someone who didn’t brush their hair after waking up. He was staring at the door through which the woman had gone with deep disdain.

Then his face softened and he turned to Alec, crossing the floor to him in two single strides. Magnus bowed over him, wrapping his arms around Alec, and leant his head against Alec’s.

“I’m here,” he whispered, stroking Alec’s arm. “Alexander, I’m here.”

Alec let out a murmur of acknowledgement, too absorbed in grief to speak.

“Are you alright?” Magnus asked, and then added, “How are you feeling?”

Alec mulled it over. He felt  _ empty _ . Instead of telling Magnus that, however, he just said, “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Magnus said, his arms going tighter around Alec. “How did you get here?”

“Ran,” Alec mumbled.

“ _ All  _ the way here?” Magnus asked, then flicked his own question aside. “Come on, then. You need to get some rest.”

Alec didn’t respond, but let Magnus pull him up and lead him into the house and through a door. He felt Magnus’s hands tighten on him for a brief second, but when he looked at him, his face was impassive. Magnus sat Alec on the bed in the middle of the room, and his gaze fell on Alec’s hands, which were black and sooty and had dirt pressed into his skin. Magnus took Alec’s hands in his, wiping away the dirt.

“What happened?” He asked. 

“The Gard,” Alec croaked. “I was there. I-“ At Magnus’s urging expression, he added, “I was looking for the portal.”

Magnus was silent a moment, then reached out and touched Alec’s cheek. “Have you had anything to eat?”

Alec lifted a shoulder in an absentminded shrug. Magnus sighed.

“Stay right here, okay?” He said, turning to leave. “I’ll be right back.”

Alec waited a few moments, and when Magnus didn’t return, kicked off his shoes and lay on the bed on his side. He could hear faint sounds from somewhere outside, of doors opening and closing, and the clang of metal.

Alec’s mind wandered again, inevitably to Max, but before he could dwell on it too much, Magnus arrived with a steaming hot cup in his hands. He was blowing on it, and Alec slowly sat up on the bed, placing his feet on the ground.

“Here,” Magnus said, sitting down beside him and handing him the cup. “Drink up. Turns out Ragnor has an excellent collection of tea.”

Alec frowned slightly. The tea smelled like lime and herbs. “You made this? You didn’t summon it from somewhere else?”

Magnus shrugged. “Well, I know you don’t like me summoning tea, and I doubt there’s any places selling tea at this time in France.”

It was all suddenly too much for Alec.

The ceramic cup slipped through his fingers, crashing to the ground and spilling tea everywhere. Alec’s lip wobbled and he bowed his head, burying it in his hands. He could feel the burn of the hot tea spilled on his feet.

Magnus cursed under his breath. “Alec-“

Alec was unable to breath, and took in long shaky breaths before letting them out. Magnus waved his fingers, and the mess was cleared up in a flurry of sparks. He moved in closer to Alec, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. 

“It’s all my fault,” Alec choked out, hardly able to breathe. “I should’ve stayed with him. I should’ve protected him.”

“You can’t save everyone, Alexander,” Magnus said in a defeated voice, almost as if he knew, but Alec paid no heed.

“It should’ve been me,” he sobbed, and felt Magnus’s arms go around him, holding him close. “It should’ve been  _ me.” _

“Don’t say that,” Magnus said, a slight tremor to his voice. “Alexander, please,  _ don’t.” _

“He was just a child,” Alec went on, his voice breaking at every point. “He didn’t deserve to-“

Alec’s voice caught, and he found himself unable to say the word  _ die. _

“I know,” Magnus said, and his arms were tight around Alec, massaging his shaking shoulders. A part of Alec had believed that Max dying was the Angel’s punishment for him, for ever believing he could be happy with another man, but in that moment that thought diminished and faded away to nothingness. “I know, Alexander. I’m so sorry.”

“ _ Max,”  _ Alec choked out one last time and broke down, leaning his head against Magnus’s shoulder as he sobbed his heart out. 

The next morning, he remembered sobbing till he was gasping for breath, remembered the reassuring pressure of Magnus’s arms around him. The next morning he woke up in Magnus’s arms with the sun streaming in through the windows, still dressed in the white funeral clothes, and realised that it was his first ever time spending the entire night with Magnus, with both of them lying in the same bed.

_ Why?  _ Alec wondered, looking at the sun-kissed face of Magnus’s sleeping form.  _ Why did you come all the way here from New York? Why did you stay with me? Why did you help me? Why me, why? _

But even as he wondered, he realised that he did know the answer. He remembered the night of the attack, remembered fighting by Magnus’s side in that square, remembered his confession - that he was in love with Alec.

_ Oh, _ Alec thought. Sick with grief over Max, he had completely forgotten about that.

He felt heat rise up to his cheeks and moved in closer to Magnus. He reminisced about all of last night’s events, about all the times he and Magnus had spent together, and thought, looking at Magnus,  _ I think I’m in love with you, too. _

He still felt hollow inside, as if his heart had been torn to shreds inside his chest. But in that moment, a small candleflame of hope flickered inside him - that maybe, someday, he would be able to smile again.


End file.
